


To Regain What Once Lost

by YannaChan



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF!Bilbo, Bilbo trying to fix everything by himself, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Time Travel, hurt/ comfort, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YannaChan/pseuds/YannaChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins doesn't regret much, but when it's finally time for him to pass on, he still falters in his conviction of having lived his life to the fullest.</p><p>Yavanna grants him another chance to set things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Regain What Once Lost

He had a good life, Bilbo reminds himself as the ship sets over to the Undying Lands.

This hobbit had a nice long life with home, food, merriment and family. With friends and a nice garden. He had peace and adventure. Oh such adventure. There was also heartbreak to be had.

Yes, he had it all.

Except for his one love.

The water around them is unmoving and not even a breeze rustles by. He glances down from his seat and regards himself in the reflection. His hair is white and thinner. His stomach filled out more. His face is full of wrinkles caused by laughter and grief combined.

He had lived a good life. Just not the one he had wished for.

Oh Yavanna, if he only had one more chance...

They cross over.

 

* * *

 

 

There are birds outside the window of Bag-End. They are sitting on his window-sill loudly declaring an early morning.

So this is what afterlife is like?

Bilbo sits up in his soft bed, studying his bedroom. It looks familiar, but something seems amiss. He can't put his finger on it though.

His stomach grumbles and he gives it up, getting up to prepare himself some breakfast. He thinks it's weird to still hunger while dead, but what would the afterlife be like without food for a hobbit?

Horrible that's what. Unacceptable even.

Elevensies just passed, when he finally remembers what once adored the empty spot on his bedroom wall.

The map of the quest to Erebor.

Bilbo races down the hall to his study where his sword and coat once rested in one sturdy chest. They're no longer there. The hobbit stares at the blank space processing.

Is this some sort of joke or some higher deity trying to grant him mercy by letting him forget this one mistake?

No, those memories are a gift he always cherished. Moments he always held dear. The dwarves he met and lost, his dwarves.

Dwalin with his unexpected sweet tooth and Balin who always tried to be the voice of reason in all the angry shouting.

Bofur, the toymaker that found a way to cheer everyone up no matter the occasion, Bifur who was smart and kind once one got past the rough language barrier and Bombur who may have been clumsy but also a great cook and friend.

Ori who still saw beauty in everything around him, because he was still young then, sharp-tongued Nori who just had to aggravate Dori whenever he had a chance to.

Oin who never heard the subjects he'd rather avoid and Gloin who missed his wife and son so deeply while being away on the quest, only ever talking about them after a couple of nips from the strong stuff.

Dear Eru, Fili and his brother Kili. His eyes teared up just thinking about them now. Fili, too young and rough around the edges to be king yet and Kili who still had to grow into his own skin. Both never saw their own potential full-filled.

And Thorin. The one dwarf that made his chest constricted painfully. His king, the only one that ever managed to win the hobbit's heart without even trying.

If anything, this was punishment. Taking these memories from him is like cutting of one of his limbs. It's like ripping his heart right out of his chest.

Surely he's mistaking right now, because no afterlife would be this cruel.

With shaking hands he grabs pipe and Old Toby and stumbles out his front door to sit down on the one bench facing the road through Hobbiton.

Bilbo breathes deep to try and settle the panic rising in him, calm his racing heart and ease his mind. One hand rises up to his hair which feels oddly full.

Surely, this is a mistake.

When he sees Gandalf who stopped at his front gate, the Hobbit finally realizes that there are more things amiss than he first noticed.

The ache in his right knee that had pained him for a good thirteen years is gone. The hair on his feet is light-brown and not the white that had grown through.

The world around him shifts out of focus.

 

* * *

 

 

When Bilbo comes to, Gandalf has sat him down in his armchair next to his unlit fireplace. The wizard is watching him from across the room.

“That was quite a welcome you gave me there, Master Baggins.”

“What's with the honorary? I thought we were quite past that, old friend.” The hobbit sits up further in his armchair. “So pray tell me, how did you die? It pains me to see you follow me here this fast.”

“Where do you think we are, Bilbo?”

“The afterlife, obviously.”

“Did you hit your head while fainting?” Gandalf's concern is clear on his face. “We are very much alive, both of us.”

The silence stretches between them. Bilbo starts pacing the room. “So what you mean to tell me is that this is not the afterlife then?” When the wizard tries to speak, the hobbit stops him with one quick motion of the hand, hardly proper for a Shireling, but this is no time for manners. His feet carry him back and forth through his living room. He comes to a sudden stop.

“Do you came here to inform me of an adventure by any chance?”

The lack of a reply is the only reply he needs.


End file.
